Ms. Gojo thought she was dating an ordinary person's boyfriend.

"And then? How did you become friends with him?"

"He initially thought I was a monster."

Gojo Satoru blinked, his body, which had been casually leaning against the bed, straightened up slightly as his attention was immediately drawn back by those words.

"monster?"

"Um."

Why?

Sumire Kichikawa remained silent for a moment, as if carefully choosing her words.

"Because I was different back then than I am now."

Gojo Satoru became even more interested, a hint of curiosity flashing in his eyes: "How is it different?"

"Many places."

"for example?"

"I can't say."

"..."

Without any hesitation, Gojo Satoru reached out and pinched Sumi Kikawa's cheek, pulling it outwards. "You're so stingy."

Kikawa Sumi let him pinch her without even flinching, her expression remaining calm: "I'll tell you when it's time to talk about it later."

"Okay, I'll remember that." Gojo Satoru reluctantly let go of his nice-feeling face, and then comfortably propped his chin up. "So, why does he think you're a monster?"

"He was lost when I showed up."

At that time, Sumi Kichikawa wasn't actually a formal mission participant.

To help him better understand what being a "mission taker" really means, he was sent to an internship world.

It was a beginner's mission that didn't even qualify as a rating, and the requirements were extremely simple: just accompany the protagonist through their entire life.

Humans only live for about a hundred years, which didn't seem difficult to him at that time.

When Sumi Kikawa awoke, he found himself sitting alone in front of an abandoned shrine deep in the mountains. His clothes were out of place among the locals, and he knew nothing of his surroundings.

Unfortunately, his first target was a child who was excessively bold.

The child had secretly run up the mountain to catch rhinoceros beetles without his family's knowledge. He bumped into Sumi Kikawa, who was sitting in front of the shrine and whose origins were unknown. Instead of being frightened and running away, he boldly approached him, looked him up and down several times, and finally asked in a very cautious low voice: What kind of monster are you?

Sumi Kichikawa had no idea how to answer at the time.

Seeing that he didn't speak, the child filled in the blank in his mind: what else could a strange-looking person who lived in an abandoned shrine, didn't even know what year it was, and had never even eaten a roasted sweet potato be but a monster?

"That sounds reasonable," Gojo Satoru commented with a smile.

"He thinks so too."

After the child became convinced that Sumire Kawakawa was a monster, instead of being afraid, he regarded it as some kind of amazing secret and ran up the mountain every day.

On the first day, he brought two rice balls, trying to determine whether monsters needed to eat human food.

The next day, he pulled out a crumpled monster encyclopedia from somewhere, sat down next to Sumi Kikawa, and spent the entire afternoon flipping through it. In the end, he said with some distress that he couldn't find the corresponding species.

On the third day, he brought a broken wooden stick that he had picked up from somewhere, solemnly stuck it into the ground, and said that he wanted to become a disciple of Kikawa Sumi and wanted him to teach him magic.

"And then?" Gojo Satoru asked with a smile, "Did you teach him?"

"no."

Why?

"I don't know magic."

Gojo Satoru suppressed a laugh, his eyes full of mischief: "Then you can just perform anything, it's easy to fool a child."

"I tried."

"Oh? What did you perform?"

Sumire Kawakawa seemed to find the scene somewhat indescribable as well. He paused for a moment before answering honestly.

"Jump down from the tree."

Gojo Satoru finally couldn't hold back and burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking: "What kind of sorcery is this?"

"I didn't know at the time."

"Did he believe it?"

I believe it.

The child not only believed it, but also firmly believed that Kikawa Sumi must be some kind of hidden mountain demon.

After all, it's impossible for an ordinary person to jump down from such a tall tree without getting a speck of dust on their clothes.

As for Sumiki Kawakawa's repeated insistence that he "is not a yokai," the child naturally interpreted it as: yokai have rules and cannot casually reveal their true identity to humans.

Later, no matter how lacking in common sense Kikkawa Sumi acted, the child could always find a perfect excuse for him.

They don't eat because the great demon no longer needs to eat; they don't sleep because the demon needs to absorb moonlight at night; they occasionally disappear suddenly because the demons in the mountains all have their own territories to patrol.

Even the fact that Sumi Kikawa didn't know how to communicate normally with people was interpreted by him as the yokai having not been in contact with humans for far too long.

"He never seemed to have any doubts," Sumi Kichikawa said softly.

"Because he likes you a lot, right?"

Kikawa Sumi paused for a moment before continuing her story.

That child comes every day.

"He brings me strange things every day to 'offer' to me," Sumi Kichikawa said calmly.

"Sometimes it was a half-burnt sweet potato, sometimes it was an ugly loach he caught in the river. And once, he somehow found a nest of bee pupae and ended up getting stung all over his head by wasps."

"He came to me with his face swollen like a steamed bun, crying as he shoved the bee larvae into my hands, saying it was an offering for the demon lord and begging me to bless him so he could pass his exam the next day."

Gojo Satoru imagined the tragic yet comical scene and couldn't help but burst out laughing: "So, did you bless him?"

"No," Sumire Kikawa answered honestly, "he still failed."

Gojo Satoru burst into laughter and collapsed onto the sofa.

"And then?" He finally finished laughing, propped his chin up again, and his eyes still held amusement. "What happened next?"

"And then..."

Sumire Kawakawa thought for a moment.

As time went by, that always boisterous child grew up quite a bit.

In just a few years, the changes in humankind have been astonishing.

He no longer worries about the headache-inducing homework at school, nor is he afraid of the vicious dog that always chases and bites him on his way home.

His voice changed, and he grew taller. He vowed that when he truly grew into a powerful adult, he would earn a lot of money, repair the dilapidated shrine for Sumire, and let everyone know that a kind yokai who doesn't eat people lives in the mountains.

He also said that he would plant a tree by hand at the entrance of the shrine's torii gate, and when the trunk grows thick enough, he would hang a beautiful swing on it for Sumi Kichikawa.

Gojo Satoru listened with great interest and pressed for more information, asking, "And then? Did they put the swing on?"

"No, he never came back."

Gojo Satoru's smile suddenly froze for a moment.

Why?

He is sick.

The illness came on suddenly.

The day before, the child had dug a hole with a shovel at the entrance of the shrine and was enthusiastically gesturing to Sumi Kichikawa about the name of the tree, saying that once he planted the tree and it grew up, he could tie the swing rope to that branch.

But he never showed up again starting the next day.

He didn't come for many days afterward.

When Sumire couldn't wait for him, she went down the mountain to look for him herself. However, the adults at the foot of the mountain were very wary and would not allow a stranger of unknown origin to approach the seriously ill child.

Since Sumi Kichikawa couldn't enter that room, she could only watch him silently through the fogged-up window in the night.

Late that night, the child in the hospital bed miraculously regained consciousness briefly.

He turned his head and saw Sumi Kichikawa standing in the night breeze through the window.

He wasn't afraid, he didn't cry, and he even smiled at him.

"He asked me if monsters never die," Sumi Kichikawa said softly.

I told him it probably wouldn't happen.

"He said that's good. When he comes to the mountains to find me again in his next life, I will still be there." Sumire Kichikawa paused slightly.

He died the next day.

The living room suddenly fell silent, with only the faint ticking of the clock on the wall remaining.

Kikawa Sumi lowered her eyes, her gaze fixed on the empty space, and continued, "That tree never survived. Because the pit was dug too shallow, it withered after autumn."